


Out of the Night That Covers Me

by jesterlady



Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Claustrophobia, Episode Related, Episode: S04e07 The Grave Danger Job, F/M, Gen, Night Terrors, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesterlady/pseuds/jesterlady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Months after the coffin and Hardison can't get through the night terrors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Night That Covers Me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Leverage. The title is by William Ernest Henley.

The moment was coming, but he was putting it off for as long as possible. He wasted hours cleaning up his hard drives and backing up client information and patching uniforms and downloading his shows and checking in with his guild until he could finally barely keep his eyes open. When that happened he knew the inevitable time had come and he slowly made his way into his bedroom.

He prolonged getting ready; doing a cleaning job on his teeth that would have made Nana proud, and then pulled back his covers and slid into bed. Hopefully tonight would be one of those nights where he’d exhausted himself enough that he could sleep before it happened. He squirmed around, getting comfortable, waiting for the terror to kick in. 

It had been happening almost every night for months, ever since they did the funeral home job. At the time surviving had been his main objective and he hadn’t thought about any damage being done to his psyche, but something had happened. Alec Hardison was officially afraid of the dark and his claustrophobia was a raging monster in his head. He was trying to work past this, he really was. He’d been to see a shrink, he’d talked with Sophie, he’d spent hours doing research, he’d stopped leaving the bathroom light on at night. He knew he’d probably go and switch it on eventually. So far he hadn’t lasted a night without it.

He was starting to fall apart, his sleep cycle was knocked way the hell off its axis, and he hadn’t been bringing his top game to the jobs. He knew the others were giving him slack, they knew that this was hard and didn’t blame him for being overly sensitive. He was pretty sure Eliot was yelling at him less and he didn’t know whether to be happy about that or not. Yet that couldn’t last because there were times when his information meant their lives and if they were going to trust him, to keep running like the team they had been, then he had to beat this. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to do that.

It wasn’t as bad as it had been at first, he could at least say that, but that didn’t help when he was panicking in his own bed.

It was happening like it always did. He tried to visualize his surroundings, his wide and spacious bed, in his big room, behind his own doors that he’d locked of his own volition. Yet he couldn’t help but see something else, a roof five inches from his face, his arms constricted at his side, spots swimming before his eyes, and the only light a pale blue from a phone he couldn’t hack.

Soon it was all he could see and his eyes got wide and his hands started to shake. He began to sweat and threw the covers off, anxious to keep anything from being on top of him. He was cold then, but he couldn’t bear to be covered by anything or turn the temperature up. He was determined to stick this out, to force his mind to recognize that he was safe and he didn’t have to worry anymore. He was going to live, he was going to be fine, they had saved him, she had saved him. He was Alec Hardison and he could beat this.

That didn’t stop his brain from imagining the slightest creaks in his room being the shifts of the coffin as he beat on the roof. An itch on his nose was from dirt falling on his face. The black was all around him, pressing in, a tangible presence, determined to swallow him whole.

He began to tremble and tried to keep tears from leaking from his eyes, but just like every other night, he couldn’t manage it. He didn’t know how to beat this, but he tried picturing other things, thinking about how Eliot had hugged him after they’d pulled him from the ground or the way that Sophie had cried for him or how Nate had needed to sit down. Mostly he thought about Parker and her voice and how it had been his only link to sanity.

Slowly Hardison put his hand out, testing his mobility, and grabbed his com off his bedside table. He’d put it there every night, but he hadn’t used it, simply made sure it was set to go straight to the one person he needed to hear. Tonight, though, tonight he needed to use it.

“P-Parker,” he said into the dark. “You there?”

There was a slight crackle and then a whooshing sound, like she had just jumped off a building. He wouldn’t put it past her, even if it was four in the morning and they weren’t currently on a job.

“Hardison?” she said. “What do you want?”

“Ah, well, ah, you know, uh, checking in,” he said lamely.

“We don’t check in. Are we supposed to check in now?”

“Naw, girl, I just- um, I wanted to make sure…you…were…there.”

Her voice was only slightly less confused.

“Of course I’m here. I’m always here.”

“Good, that’s good.” He tried to keep his voice from shaking, but he didn’t think he was doing it very well. Her voice made him feel more calm, but in some ways, it just reminded him of being back in the coffin, him in the dark, her above ground. “You out doing some recon work?”

“Maybe,” she said, a hint of glee in her voice. “Do you have something you want me to do?”

“Nope, you keep on doing that thing, the thing you’re already doing.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said.

“Wait!” he said and hated how panicked he sounded. No way she wouldn’t pick up on that. “Uh, wait.”

“Hardison, what’s wrong?” she asked, her voice alert now.

“I-I, well, I can’t…sleep.” Admitting it was a blow to his pride, but the way he was fighting just to be able to breathe…his pride could take a long jump off whatever building Parker had just jumped off.

“Oh,” she said, and in her tone was a complete understanding of the situation, and he wouldn’t have to explain anything. He was inexplicably relieved. “Are you panicking?”

Or maybe she would be Parker and ask the awkward question.

“Naw, I just…tired…too much…work. Gotta do stuff for the team, ya know?” His attempt at casual was blatantly ridiculous and even Parker would see through that.

“Hardison, can you breathe for me?” she said. “In. Out. In. Out.” He complied with her request, glad to do anything but think about being in the dark. He’d tried breathing other nights, but somehow it was easier with her guiding him. “Does that help?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, not really wanting to be casual anymore. He simply couldn’t take trying to do both things and if he lost any of his will power, it was just going to make him feel worse.

“Good. Now, you’re in your bed, right?” she asked.

“Right,” he confirmed.

“You’re safe.”

“I’m safe.”

“I’m here.”

“Don’t go,” he said, voice cracking.

“I’ll never go,” she said, sounding a little sad herself. “Why would I go anywhere? You’re here.”

Despite his fear, a warm feeling blossomed over him, making the terror fade a bit.

“Yeah, I’m not going anywhere either,” he said.

“I know you’re not,” she said. “You’re steady, you’re patient. I’m not any of those things, but I’m learning.”

“Woman, you got patience coming out the wazoo,” he said. “You can wait in position in a vent for hours.”

“It’s a different kind of patience,” she said finally. “I know what I want is there, I know when it’s coming. I’m ticking down the seconds.”

“So, it’s patience,” he said, liking the fact he could concentrate on puzzling out her meaning. Trying to figure Parker out was one of his favorite things on the planet.

“It’s time,” she corrected. “But you…you wait for something you don’t know will come or how it will come. You just…wait. You say the right things and you don’t get mad when it’s not ready for you. It’s comforting.”

Then he understood, or he thought he did. The warm feeling grew and that internal meter of progress that he kept regarding Parker ticked a few inches in the right direction.

“That’s worth it,” he said, less and less focused on the dark and more on her voice. “That’s the easiest thing in the world when it’s worth it.”

She took a deep breath and he waited for her to respond. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, she spoke again.

“You’re a good man, Hardison,” she said. “You’re the best friend I ever had and you understand. No one ever understood before.”

“About high time someone did,” he said. “Because that’s what you deserve.”

“You deserve a lot, too,” she said. “You deserve someone who can say the things you want to hear, like in a life or death situation they could actually admit- Someone who understands how to do…this.”

“Do what?” he asked, not knowing if he was pushing too far.

“Together,” she said. It was all she said.

“There is no how,” he said. “Parker, don’t sell yourself short. We all changed.”

“Yeah, we did,” she said, and her voice was soft. “So, you’re okay with it?”

“With who you are? Hell yeah, woman. I’m more than okay with you.”

She let out a small sound and all of his fears vanished with the noise. He knew they weren’t gone completely. After all, his trauma was deep and his life dangerous, but somehow, he felt confident that he could make it. Tonight that bathroom light was staying off. More than just bravado or determination filled him, hope and encouragement and…well, love, was there as well. If they both needed more time, so be it. At least they’d be doing time together.

“Hardison, are you scared?” she asked.

“Naw,” he said, and meant it. “Not now.”


End file.
